The Birth of a Echo
by Phantomphanphantasy
Summary: See him from birth to the way you know but from a different perspective, see it through a man from the other side of humanity, see how he be became known as The Phantom of the Opera.


I was born.

Not the best way to start a story because it happens to everyone, but my birth was actually not like usual ones. From what I have been told, it was that there was a lot of screaming and chaos was not about me, not yet, but it was what was going on immediately after I came into this world.

"Chantie! My child. Bring me my child" my mother Claire breathlessly demanded to my nurse. Chantie carried me with such caution and gentleness that I actually fell asleep in her large, warm arms. But her alarmed expression did not go unnoticed by my mother.

"Uh Miss," her words gushed out as if jumping to defend herself, "I really don't understand how this happened, you made it to full term but-"

"Damn it Chantie, give me my child!" she said as she sat up and yanked me out Chantie's arms, jolting me fully awake which caused me to fuss. My eyes peeked out at Claire from a opening of the soft cotton blanket that Chantie had hurriedly wrapped around me. She was pretty, not the most beautiful but quaint. Her blond hair stuck to her face dripping with perspiration. And her eyes, they were like a midnight blue. Her full pink lips parted into a smile. I loved her smile.

"Ohhhh..." she cooed. Then, during my studies of her she lifted the other half of the blanket, uncovering the part concealed. Her scream was almost like an animal. I felt she no longer looked pretty when she screamed "Oh my God! No! It's God awful! Take it away! Monstre! Monstre!" She shoved me into Chantie's arms causing me to wail. The frantic maid ran down the long hall to her chamber with me in her arms to escape the noise.

This is a memory that haunts me to this very day, I was about six years old and I went to Claire's bedchamber for my daily visit.

I walked into her large bedroom with my usual awe of the room with its large windows covered with heavy velvet drapes that, because of me, had to always be pulled tightly together.

I walked closer to where Claire was seated at her vanity table. She was staring at the looking glass as she touched up her rouge.

"Stay where you are." I immediately stopped my small steps. I bowed.

"Good morning, Claire." I greeted her, in a chipper mood that day. She glanced at me and turned away quickly.

"Why aren't you wearing your mask?" she asked matter-of-factually.

"Oh mother, please don't make me wear that awful thing. It hurts my face." I tried not to sound as though I were complaining.

"You are supposed to wear the mask, you know that."

"I know mother but-

"Then you must also know that you are horrendously ugly and people must be protected from the burden of it!"

"B-but mother, I am not as ugly as you think! You will see! I read a story that there was a little ugly duckling and he grew up to be a swan! A Swan!"

She laughed her melodic laugh and said, "There are no such happy endings for someone like you!"

"Mother...please don't say that..." I pleaded.

"You don't deserve to call me your mother!"

She rubbed her temples and sighed."We are done here, I will see you tomorrow," she said simply as she rang the bell for Chantie to come and take me away from her sight. Chantie obediently took my hand and led me from the room and back to the room that we shared.

"Go into your room and you'll find something on your bed." Chantie told me. Her tone was so much warmer than my own mother's.

Still hurting from Claire's harsh words, I looked at Chantie in confusion. Then suddenly I remembered she told me earlier that she had something for me. I ran to my room excitedly and found it laying perfectly on my poor excuse for a bed. It was my first violin.

It had a rough boxwood top and the ebony fingerboard was slightly chipped. I didn't care-it was mine. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Gingerly, I picked it up and stared at it as my fingers tumbled over the strings.

Chantie stood in the doorway. "Go on, try it out." she said tenderly. Her encouragement and generosity was something I was not used to from Claire.

I looked at the six pegs at the end of it. Reaching for them, I began to turn them as I plucked the strings to the pitch I somehow instinctively knew was perfect. I placed the bow lightly on the tuned strings and let my arm relax and glide down, making a soft sound from the violin.

I gasped softly. I had never heard such a sweet sound. I turned to Chantie with sheer amazement on my face. She beamed as she made a hand gesture, indicating that I should continue.

Turning again to the violin, I weaved the bow up against the strings. Once again, a sound came from the violin that I could not believe my hand could produce. I can't quite describe what it sounds like only because, at that time, I had never heard anything like it.

I pressed my pointer finger on the the second highest string and sent the bow downward. It now made a different sound, a tone that was somewhere between the two original pitches. I smiled and then thought, maybe if I combined the notes? I recalled the notes from before and played them.

Turning to my beloved nursemaid, I exclaimed, "Oh Chantie! I made music! Listen, I made music!" My heart was full of a pride I had never felt before in my miserable life. She smiled and walked over to me.

"Yes, you did..." She sat on the corner of my bed. "Play some more." Chantie closed her eyes. I looked to the violin and played again, its soft sounds soothed me. Then I decided to add more notes. I moved the bow as I played and created more wondrous sounds.

My long fingers obeyed what my will wanted them what to do. When I thought of something sad, my fingers went slowly. When something angered me, I quickened the pace and played more aggressively. I closed my eyes and let the music surround me. I heard it. I felt it, closing in around me. I had never felt it before. My imagination took me to a place I had not allowed myself to go. I envisioned myself as a concert violinist or even a famous composer.

Tears came to the brims of my eyes. How could I believe this could ever be... with this face?

I stopped playing. I opened my eyes and sniffed back the tears. Chantie opened her eyes also, her smooth face now creased with concern.

"Are you alright?" Chantie asked.

I put the violin down and it rested against my leg. I put my hand to my face, first touching the warmth of the smooth, pale skin on the left cheek. Reluctantly, my fingers made their way over to the left side then the right.

"I wish to be...a...but..." I began, not looking at her. She stood up and put her hand on my shoulder. "Then do it." I looked up at her, eyes brimmed with tears.

"I can't... my face..." I said, miserable.

"Oh. , she tsked, "What about it?" She softly glared at me.

"I'm not...I'm ugly...people out there despise ugliness..." I whimpered, looking away from her, Chantie took her hand off my shoulder and placed on my chin to turned my head to face her.

"Well let them go and burn in Hell for all I care." Hell.

"Where is Hell?" I asked.

"Hell is a place, a place where bad people go."

"Like..." I hesitated, "Like Claire?" I asked in a soft voice. Chantie nodded solemnly.

I nodded as well, hoping in some way Claire could burn. I hesitantly opened up my arms, Chantie, having known of my intention, pulled me close in a embrace where I sobbed into her bosom, shaking my head.

"I want to please people Chantie, I want to show the world what I can do!"

"Now, now...Just because you were born different doesn't mean you you can't do things that other can, it's not a disease..."

I wept, clinging to her. Chantie was my only solace in this awful world. She was an angel: more beautiful in mind and body than Claire could ever hope to be. A bell rang, I heard it as well as Chantie. "Your mother needs me. I'll be back." Her hands slipped from mine as we parted, she hurried along to tend to Claire's needs. I turned to go back to playing when a thought occurred to me. Maybe if I could show Claire what I can do with music, she could as least smile at me, and not in her sneering mockery of a true smile. I pattered across the cool floor, violin carefully clutched in my small hands. I went to knock on the tall doors when I heard Claire, she was speaking to Chantie, much in a way that she talks to me, stern and heartless, I gripped my instrument.

"You encourage him to not wear his mask, Chantie." I heard through the closed doors.

"Miss, you shouldn't treat him that way, he's only a child, he needs love and attention. If you could just look past his face and truly see within him, you could." Chantie countered. I leaned closer to the door, The next sound was only a glimpse of my future, a slap. But Chantie made no sound, nor moved as well as I heard though.

"I treat him as people should to one that are beastly. You are not superior than I, you are a servant and nothing more."

"If he was my child, I would never treat him so Madame If you had half a brain you could at the least show him affection, he's at a tender age where everything mat-'" Another slap rang in my ears. I yelped and quickly covered my mouth, silent tears ran down my mangled cheek. Claire laughed cruelly.

"No wonder you care for that monster. You feel as if it is penance for losing your own!"

I cried mutely, then I heard thundering footsteps, and the door opened. Claire grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me into the room.

"You are nothing but a little disgusting little bastard yourself!" She pushed me into Chantie's arms. Chantie clung to me, and I to her.

Claire's voice was now sickeningly sweet. "Look at this, do you see this? One big happy, broken family. Quite the members we have here, the appalling illegitimate son of mine and the maid, working together against this cruel, cruel world." She sneered, a face I'm too familiar with.

"Chantie, get out of my sight. You will pack your things and leave this place tomorrow morn."

My poor, sweet maid ushered me away, not looking back for fear of more scorn.

I wanted Chantie to sleep close to me that night, so we moved our beds together but never slept, sometimes I would cry, some moments Chantie would, but most of the time we just held on to each other. We did end up sleeping, making us blind of what to happen next, I was jolted awake when I felt Chantie leave me. She was across the way, pulling out her things.

"Chantie? What are you doing?" I already knew, but some part of me couldn't help but hope.

"I have to go, The Miss says so." She bustled into her hope chest, pulling out her items and placing them gently in her baggage. Clicking footsteps got me on my feet.

"Chantie you don't have to go!" I begged, "Stay here with me, help me through this!"

The door was flung open and there stood Claire, scowling, another facial expression I know too well.

"Why haven't you left yet Chantie?" asked Claire, her tone sweet like honey, "too busy loving the little demon?" Chantie pulled me close behind her.

"Miss, this isn't even about him anymore, don't make him see this." Claire walked close to her, almost a hair's breadth to each other.

She growled, "Let him see." She slammed down the Chantie's bag, and caught Chantie by her hair.

"Come along now Chantie, mustn't act so child like in front of child you know, bad habits and such."

Chantie reached out to me, but was being shoved to the door.

"Chantie!" I cried "Chantie don't leave me!" I ran after them, Claire yanking her down the hallway. Finally reaching the door, Claire shoved it open and threw my maid out onto the the hard, cold ground.

"I never want to see you again Chantie, do you hear me? Never."

I caught up to them, blubbering and sobbing.

"Chantie no...don't leave..." I whispered to her

"I'm sorry, Erik..." She cupped my cheek and smiled weakly. Taking a glance to Claire then standing, she picked up her things and walked off, never to return, not looking back for fear of hesitation. the only person in that part of my life to show me altruism.


End file.
